We were sitting at Silver Coin tonight when we heard this earnest young man say:
"I don't know the line between being theologically correct and being an a**hole."
I almost spit out my tikka masala I laughed so hard. Then I wrote it down as a line for my book.
I spent most of the weekend at the beach for the 30a Songwriters Fest. It was fun, minus the people who took it upon themselves to loudly "shush" people who were breathing the wrong way. I laughed when, during his performance, singer-songwriter Charlie Mars (who was one of my favorites) replied to one of the shushers with: "Um, I have to talk."
He was excellent in every way, and I can't wait to see him when he returns to Birmingham next month.
Spotted this shirt at Watercolor. Probably should have gotten it:
What we wore all day Saturday. (Take home message: don't lose your only pair of socks in the hotel room somehow. Because cowboy boots, especially those two sizes too big bought in Nashville for a steal hurt without socks.) That's real danger.
The best part about the weekend was meeting a bunch of new friends, all creatives who have carved their own paths. That's a good thing to be surrounded by. It was also good to see the sun, since it's literally was weeks since it was out at home. Had breakfast sitting by the pool on the last day:
Came home to unpack, and to pack, and to work, and to steal a few minutes at Railroad Park with my parents and Nate, who never tires of scooting. His mom gets a little more tired. But scooting I go.